...then the ride home (a call, an actual one)

On the ride home, the very same day, I'm cruising back down Marshall, between Snelling and the river, when it is all down hill and any rider can hit 25 easy.

The roads are smooth and new and the bike lane is painted in fresh white roadpaint. It is a bike commuters dream. Except for rail to trail.

Cruising past the line of stopped traffic at Fairview and Marshall, suddenly a black Civic pulls into the bike lane, turning (unsignaled) into the driveway of a church.

I think I was able to slow down to 15 before I hit the side of the car but it was simply too late to stop. Basically, I bounced off the side of her car and broke my fall on the fresh new pavement. My jersey and shorts were not ripped.

"Are you ok?" the lady inquired with a hint of concern.

"What the fuck do you think?"

I got up, picked up my bike, turned my wrists and ankles just to make sure they worked, got her name, number, and plates, and rode four more miles until my rear tire deflated.

Then I went to urgent care.

A close call (apologies to the Hyundia-set)

I was riding my bike to work on Wednesday, as I often do. I take the Greenway to Hiawatha, then 26th to W. River Road and down to the Lake Street Bridge. Over the Lk St Brdg and then Marshall all the way to the place where I work.

On my way in, 30 feet from the intersection of Marshall and Kent, this prick in a maroon Kia Rio passes me within than six inches and then cuts me off. Right at the intersection, this asshole. I pull up next to him at the stop sign where he rests, waiting for passing traffic and I spit into the drivers window onto his cheap suit and ugly face.

"What the hell are you doing?" he yells.

"I'm getting cut off by a limp dick in a cheap Korean hatchback, you fuck." And I rode off.

It was so very satisfying.

Liking the semi-colon; It is good.

It is the literary version of gasoline.
Use it too much, we'll all be riding bicycles.

And you know how that ends.